Lost on Gilligan's Island
by Panhead13
Summary: Slight dramatic AU. When seven people are shipwrecked on an uncharted island, they must learn to set aside their differences and work together to survive until they can be rescued. Dramatic rewrite focusing on the more important episodes and starting at the opening. Rated because this AU permits drama stuff. POVs include Gilligan and the Skipper.
1. An Escape to Hawaii

**Hi there. :D I bring you the first chapter of "Lost on Gilligan's Island" so I can work on "The Hyde Effect" some more. XD As this project will likely take a longer time to produce. I'll probably pump out the first two chapters and then officially go on hiatus until I can finish "The Hyde Effect", which is probably getting close to done. It'll probably be done anywhere between 10 and 15 chapters if I had to guess.**

**I'm not sure what this project is going to take chapterwise. I'm aiming for 20 or 25 thereabouts, but I might go over and it might take quite a while to get that many chapters. I might get out of the fandom, I might get other ideas, I might start working on my other projects more frequently to satisfy my other readers. My updates tend to be rather erratic when I start a big project like this. XD**

**Anyway, enjoy the story before I bore you to death with my blabbering.**

**Lost on Gilligan's Island: Chapter 1- An Escape to Hawaii**

**.~GIAU~.**

_September 25, 1964_

It was a bright, sunny Thursday in Hawaii. The weather was great, and, as usual, hot.

Willie Gilligan, a 21-year-old sailor, strolled down to the marina, a dimpled smile on his face. He had been working as first mate of the Minnow, a tiny tourboat, for about two months, and he loved it. He got to meet new people and be where he liked to be, and that was on the sea.

Every day from nine to six, he was on the Minnow, taking care of the passengers' needs or doing whatever work his skipper ordered him to do. He didn't get paid a whole lot, but then Gilligan didn't need a lot of money, just enough to pay his rent and buy his food. He was content with his job, and was glad that Skipper Jonas Grumby hadn't kicked him out for being clumsy.

Gilligan was what some called a "one-man disaster area" and couldn't get through a single day without knocking something over, bumping into someone, tripping, or spilling food or drink on a person.

This last clumsy act is what had gotten him fired from his last job. He had worked at a little restaurant as a waiter. Not only were some orders accidentally dumped on a customer, but other orders would get mixed up, messed up, or sampled by a graze-inclined Gilligan. The restaurant owners didn't even give him a chance. He'd just been booted out.

He felt so glad when the Skipper hired him on the same day he'd been fired. Two months later, the Skipper had become Gilligan's best buddy. Sure, the Skipper yelled a lot, and maybe he could seem a lot like an older brother sometimes, but the dynamic worked out well. The Skipper cared about Gilligan and Gilligan cared about the Skipper.

Gilligan arrived at the Minnow's docking site, where the Skipper was waiting. Another ordinary day of work was about to start.

**.~GIAU~.**

Meanwhile, several people arrived in Hawaii for different reasons.

One couple was in Hawaii for a vacation. They had lots of money and took no shame in spending it on a tropical vacation once and a while. Another woman was very famous, arriving in Hawaii for a little fun before she had to meet with a producer there in two days.

A man was a teacher who had just gotten out for summer vacation. He had been wisely saving up his money all throughout the school year, and had finally saved enough to take the Hawaiian vacation he'd always wanted to take. He was looking forward to observing different specimens of plants and animals, and perhaps saving some souvenirs for his class next year.

A farm girl from Kansas who had just recently turned nineteen had also arrived in Hawaii. It was her first time away from home on her own, and she was very excited and nervous to be so.

This group, so diverse, all coming together for an escape to Hawaii. What did any of them have in common? Nothing, except they all had the same idea.

Why not enjoy the day by taking a tour on a charter boat?

**.~GIAU~.**

Skipper Jonas Grumby was very proud of his boat. The Minnow, she was called, and she carried tourists from all over on exotic tours through the ocean and around some of the islands surrounding Hawaii.

He loved her and took great pride in showing her off, admiring her, and telling her passengers how he had gotten her. She was a sleek boat, painted all white except for the letters **S.S. MINNOW**, which were painted in an attractive, sharp blue on her side. It was the first boat he'd owned, and he made sure first mate Gilligan took good care of her. It was one of the few things he did right according to the Skipper.

The Skipper was a large man in his forties, with greying blonde hair and blue eyes. He was a bachelor and an experienced sailor, having fought in the Navy during the second World War. He was used to commanding and command he did. While Gilligan was his pal and his "little buddy", as he affectionately called the younger fellow, he made sure orders were followed and didn't mind maintaining discipline with a short whack to the head with his hat.

It was time for the noon tour. The last tour's passengers were leaving with "We hope you enjoyed the tour"s and "Have a great day"s from the Skipper and from Gilligan. When they had all gone, the Skipper elbowed Gilligan. "That blonde girl sure was a looker, wasn't she?" he commented.

Gilligan swallowed. "I was too busy trying to _not_ look at her," he said. "She kept looking at me kinda funny. But I guess she was pretty."

"Gilligan, _everyone_ looks at you funny," said the Skipper. "Come on, I think I see our next passengers coming."

Gilligan saw that some of the passengers had luggage. He'd seen several people carrying luggage on three-hour long tours before, but never _suitcases._ He figured they must have been heavy. The nimble young man sprinted down the dock to the older couple carrying the luggage. "Here, let me carry that for you," he said, extending his arms.

"Don't mind if we do," said the man, setting his two suitcases in Gilligan's outstretched arms. The skinny fellow nearly fell under the weight, but he managed to support it by leaning backward.

"Oh, how nice of you," said the woman with a smile. She, too, gave Gilligan two suitcases.

Huffing and puffing, Gilligan slowly made his way back to the Minnow. His arms and knees shook from the weight of the load. "Here, let me help you with that," said another man. This one looked to be about thirty-five. He had light brown hair and intelligent eyes.

Gilligan gratefully allowed the man to take two of the suitcases. "Thanks," he said, releasing a sigh of relief.

Gilligan and the five passengers climbed aboard the Minnow, the Skipper greeting them and telling them that lunch would be served shortly. _Mm, lunch,_ thought Gilligan, setting down the suitcases next to the rich-looking couple. _I'd like a big, juicy cheeseburger with ketchup and mustard and onion rings and-_

"Gilligan!" called the Skipper, interrupting the young man's train of thought.

Gilligan hurried over to see what the Skipper wanted. "Yes, Skipper?" he asked.

The Skipper looked giddy with excitement. "Gilligan, is _that_ who I _think_ it is?" he asked, pointing at the pretty redheaded lady.

Gilligan's eyes grew wide. "I think that _is_ who you think it is," he said. _Oh boy, a movie star! A real, live movie star! On _our _boat! And not just any real live movie star, but a real live Ginger Grant! Hot dog, should I ask for her autograph? No, I couldn't... But she's there! Here! Now!_

"The real Ginger Grant! On _my_ boat!" chuckled the Skipper. He wandered away, out of sight of the passengers, and did a little victory dance. Gilligan didn't say it, but he though that the little dance looked very silly when done by a man of the Skipper's size.

Gilligan smiled and headed back over to the passengers. He waved. "Hi. I'm Gilligan," he said. When everyone looked up at him, he swallowed back the sudden nervousness he felt. "I'll just um, check to see if we're ready with lunch," he stammered, backing up and turning around. He bumped his nose on the top part of the boat in turning. _I've got to stop doing that,_ he thought, rubbing his nose and muttering "Ow" under his breath. He disappeared inside.

The passengers exchanged glances. "What was that about?" asked the rich man.

Gilligan soon came back out into the open, trying to handle three plates of food at once. He was carrying two with his hands and balancing the third on one of his forearms, and that one was wobbling back and forth like an out-of-control see-saw. The pretty brunette girl rose up and almost said something, but Gilligan spoke first. "It's OK, I've got it," he said. She sat back down.

Surprisingly, Gilligan managed to safely set down all three plates without incident, much to everyone's relief... especially his own. He grinned with a nervous chuckle. "Now I'll go get the other two," he said, stumbling off again.

"Gilligan, when you're done with that I need you to secure the anchor," said the Skipper. "Then we can set sail."

"Yes sir," said Gilligan, quickly hurrying off and grabbing the other two lunches, giving his own a longing look. He took the food out to the remaining two passengers and gave it to them. Then he set off to see if the anchor was secure. "Yikes! This thing is as loose as Skinny Mulligan's tooth when he fell off his bike that one time," he said to himself. He detached the line completely in order to get a good knot tied. He was about to tie it on when he found himself being addressed.

"You there, boy... ehm, Gilligan, was it?"

Gilligan turned to look at the rich man, who had addressed him. "Y... yes sir?" he asked. The man beckoned him to come closer. Gilligan did so.

The man pointed at his plate of food. "What is the mushy pink stuff?" he asked in a low tone.

"It's crab, sir," said Gilligan.

"Are you sure it's not poisoned?" the man asked.

"Of course it's not," said Gilligan. "I can taste it for you if you like." He reached down with his fingers to pinch a bit of crab, but the rich man pulled the plate away.

"I'd rather you not, thank you," he said. Then he muttered something about grubby fingers.

Gilligan checked his fingers to make sure they weren't "grubby", as the man had put it. Finding they were perfectly clean-looking, he shrugged and walked off to get his lunch, and then Ginger interrupted him. "Gilligan," she said.

Gilligan gulped. "Y...Yes, m-ma'am?" he stuttered, inwardly freaking out that Ginger Grant was actually talking to him.

Ginger looked at him through dark green eyes. "Can you get me a nice, cold drink?" she asked.

"R- Right away, m-ma'am," said Gilligan.

"Get the rest of us something to drink as well, please," said the man who helped him carry the suitcases.

Gilligan fished a little notebook from his pocket and flipped it open to a blank page. "Anyone got a pencil?" he asked. The man had a pencil. He handed it to Gilligan. "What sort of drink would everyone like? We've got water, punch, and lemonade."

"No champagne?" asked the rich man, seeming surprised.

Gilligan shook his head. "No, but the Skipper keeps beer in the cooler. He doesn't let anyone have it."

"I'll have punch," said the pretty brunette with the pigtails.

"I'll have lemonade," said Ginger.

"I shall have lemonade as well," said the rich woman.

"Water will suffice," said the regular man. He used big, smart people words.

The rich man folded his arms. "If I can't have champagne, I shan't have any drink at all," he said.

Gilligan wrote them all down in his notebook like so:

**PigTAiLs - PuNcH**

**GiNGer GrANT - LeMoNAde**

**rich LAdy - LeMoNAde 2**

**smArT Guy - WATer**

**rich Guy - ANy dRiNk AT ALL**

He scratched his head, feeling as if he had written something down wrong, but then shrugged the feeling off and headed off to grab the passengers their drinks.

After giving them all their drinks (and nearly spilling a few), Gilligan sighed and went to go get his lunch.

"Gilligan, I didn't ask for anything to drink," said the rich man.

Gilligan looked at him in confusion. "No, you asked for 'any drink at all'," he said. "So I gave you punch."

"No I didn't want _anything_ to drink," said the rich man.

"Gilligan, are we ready to set sail?" asked the Skipper.

"Yes, Skipper," called Gilligan, his heart sinking that he had messed something up again. He went to grab his lunch as the Skipper detached the boat from the port. The engine was started, the voyage had begun...

And the anchor was forgotten.

**.~GIAU~.**

**That's it for Chapter 1. :P**

**Dun dun duuuuuun *boooooooom* I might bring the next few chapters rather quickly... X3**

**I'm also trying to put title images on all of my stories (I love how my G is for Gilligan one came out). The ones that don't will be decorated by a Toonigan (A Gilligan drawn in my original cartoon style) and the cheerful little message of "Sorry! No cover image available at this time!" Like the one on this story. XD I think he's cute.**

**I'd also love to make a chatroom for us Gilligan's Island writers. I hang out in a Danny Phantom chatroom a lot and it would be neat to do the same with GI, though it might not be frequented much becasue we all have lives and this fandom has been really slow lately. XD In which we could discuss the show, our ideas, and our stories. Or just random chatting. (I warn you though: If my author's notes are any indication, I talk A LOT.)**

**Also, I don't see how men's basketball relates to Gilligan's Island in the least... *The Korean thing that showed up* But if it helps get 500 by 50 I'm happy. XD**


	2. The Storm

**Chapter 2 is here! So glad so many people enjoyed the first chapter. :D**

**I'm also going to say that quite a bit of Chapter 3 is written already... I stayed up till 6:00 AM one day writing it. XD And I haven't started the chapter yet because I need to review a clip. I almost have the scene memorized but the order is a bit mixed up. Also written in this story is the start of Chapter 4 and another part of Chapter 5 (also based on a scene from the first episode... this one I had memorized. XD I basically stuck to the exact dialogue. That will very rarely happen in this story, but I thought that particular scene was hilarious)**

**Anyway, I did NOT stick to any precise dialogue in this chapter. I freewrote it and it came out being very dramatic, and I'm happy with it as it is. :3**

**Lost on Gilligan's Island: Chapter 2- The Storm**

**.~GIAU~.**

Lunch was finished and Gilligan had just cleaned up after everybody. The Minnow was thirty minutes into her 3-hour journey, and a couple of landmarks had already been passed and pointed out.

Gilligan made comments to the passengers and tried to strike conversations and small talk, as he so often did. At one point, they passed by a little cone-shaped rock sticking up in the water. Gilligan pointed at it with a grin on his face. "I call that rock 'Gilligan's Peak'," he said. "We always pass by it. I named it."

"Well that makes sense," said the pretty brunette. "Finding a rock and naming it after yourself."

Gilligan smiled, taking in the salty smell of the ocean spray. He really did love everything about his job. He loved the people, the tour-track, and of course the smells and sights of the ocean. The Minnow was practically his third home. (We say "third" because his parents' house is his first home and his current home is his second home.)

He rolled up his sleeves. "It sure is hot," he said, regretting he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt. "I'm gonna get something to drink. Anyone want refills?"

"I do," said Ginger. "But this time get me the punch. The lemonade was a bit too sour."

Gilligan took her cup and headed back in to refill it, and get himself some punch in the process. He poured the glasses and cautiously carried them back out. He gave Ginger hers, wandered back over to the Skipper, and chugged his in several quick gulps. He felt cooler already. Or was that the air itself?

Gilligan had been working on the Minnow for two full months. He knew what the air usually felt like and how the light reflected against the Minnow's surface. He might have been oblivious to a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. He could sense when something was different. And the way the air felt right now, the way the light looked... it was wrong. Things looked dim. The air had grown cooler.

Gilligan looked up at the sky. He blinked twice and then squinted at it. "Skipper, I thought you said that the radio guy said that the weather was supposed to be good today," he said, eying the dark clouds gathering in the sky above them.

"It was," said the Skipper.

Gilligan pointed upward. "Then those clouds must not have listened to the weather report," he said.

The Skipper looked up, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand. "Lovely," he said sarcastically.

Gilligan glanced at the Skipper. "No, Skipper, that's bad," he said.

The Skipper gave his first mate a look. "I was being sarcastic," he said. "Now go warn everyone that there may be a storm coming."

"Aye aye," said Gilligan with a salute. He bounded off toward the five passengers, nearly tripping over a rope in the process. He stumbled over into the middle of them. "The Skipper wanted me to tell you that there might be a storm coming," he said.

The smart man looked up at the sky. "Those do look reminiscent of cumulonimbus clouds," he commented.

Gilligan had no idea what the man had said. "So, um, just letting you know, it could storm." He went back over toward the Skipper, who had turned on the little radio and was listening to it with concern etched on his face.

_**"A freak thunderstorm has just arisen over the southern Pacific, dangerously close to the Hawaiian islands. Boats are advised to return to shore before the storm hits."**_

"Looks like we're turning around, little buddy," said the Skipper.

Gilligan turned around and shouted to the passengers, "We're turning back!"

Just as the Skipper was beginning to turn the boat, the sun became blotted out by the rolling dark clouds. A wind began to blow.

"We'd better hurry and get back," said Gilligan, looking back and forth from the sky to the waves.

"I'm not sure if we can," said the Skipper. "This storm is rising fast!"

A huge bolt of lightning erupted in the sky, nearly sending Gilligan jumping out of his skin. "Skipper Skipper Skipper!" he cried, tackling the Skipper.

"Doop!- Gilligan, get off of me!" Gilligan let go, straightening his sailor hat to regain his composure. "Go tell the passengers to get below deck! And grab our raincoats!" the Skipper ordered.

"Yes sir," said Gilligan. He headed back toward the passengers. "Everyone get below deck!" he announced. "Everyone below deck! The storm is here, the storm is here!"

"I noticed," said the rich man.

Gilligan directed everyone down below deck, then shut himself down there as well. They all felt the boat begin to rock violently. "Gilligan! Get back out here!" shouted the Skipper from above.

"Woops," said Gilligan, grabbing the raincoats and hurrying back out onto the deck. He scrambled to where the Skipper was standing. "Yes, Skipper?"

"We've got to secure the boat! The storm came up too quickly for us to turn back!" the Skipper yelled over the wind. "Cast the anchor!"

Gilligan gave the Skipper the larger of the two raincoats and quickly slipped on his own, then searched the deck for the anchor. He found it, heaved it up, and tossed it overboard. And then he realized too late that something was very wrong. He had forgotten something very important. "Skipper! I forgot to secure the anchor!" he cried, turning to face the Skipper with wide eyes.

The Skipper turned and gave him a good long stare mixed with fear and anger... but mostly fear. "Gilligan, I told you to do that earlier!" he shouted, lightning crashing behind him.

"I forgot!" Gilligan yelled back.

The Skipper had no time to be enraged with his first mate now; the storm was growing worse and worse by the second. Waves were beginning to crash over the sides of the tiny boat. "Gilligan, hold on tight!" he shouted, grabbing hold of the steering wheel and giving it a calculated spin. "We're going to navigate this storm even if it ends up killing us!"

Gilligan drew closer to the Skipper, flinching as waves of cold seawater drenched him. Now the rain was beginning to fall as well, growing faster with every other second. He stopped right next to his captain, who was determinedly squinting out into the dark of the storm. Gilligan was trembling, too frightened to speak, as rain torrented down onto his back. He decided he didn't like the rain.

The Minnow was tossed and spun for hours and hours. Gilligan bucketed and threw over water as it came in while the Skipper held his place at the wheel. He didn't even notice the wet or the cold anymore, much less his busy first mate behind him. Then, as if the situation wasn't bad enough already, things got worse.

The steering wheel froze, jammed. The Skipper began jerking at it to try to get it to move, but the thing wouldn't budge. Gilligan noticed his friend's trouble. He dumped a bucket of water overboard and ran to the Skipper's side. "Let me try it, Skipper," he said, grabbing hold of the wheel from the side.

The Skipper shoved him away. "Gilligan, would you leave me alone?" he demanded. "If I'm not getting it loose, you _definitely_ can't."

"Sure I can," said Gilligan, defiantly taking hold of the wheel again.

"No you _can't!_" the Skipper insisted, jarring the frozen wheel back in the opposite direction. Gilligan pulled in the other, intent on proving that he was capable of doing something other than cleaning the ship. "Gilligan, you're not helping me!" growled the Skipper. "Go throw more water overboard!"

Gilligan's sea-colored eyes gleamed defiantly, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. He was going to prove himself to the Skipper and nothing would stop him...

A giant wave smashed against the side of the boat. The sheer force of it would have knocked Gilligan overboard had he not been holding onto that steering wheel with a death grip. It did, however, send Gilligan flying back and landing on his rump. The force of Gilligan's pull and fall did at last loose the steering wheel. Only now it was spinning out of control.

The Skipper bore down on Gilligan. "_Now_ look what you've done!" he roared. Gilligan had never seen the Skipper look so mad. "Now go throw the water overboard before I throw _you_ overboard!"

Gilligan scrambled to his feet and hurried away, grabbing a bucket and throwing out water again. Now he was grateful for the rain, for it hid the tears that were beginning to stream down his face. It wasn't his fault; he had only wanted to help. He had wanted to prove that he could be a hero. But now he had only proved the Skipper right, that he couldn't do anything right.

Then the passengers came up from below deck. Gilligan looked up at them. "There's a hole in the boat! We were all starting to get wet down there!" declared the pretty brunette with the pigtails.

"Well, it's even wetter up here," said Gilligan, somewhat bitterly.

The smart man motioned at the buckets piled up on deck. "Everyone grab a bucket!" he said. "We're going to start throwing water overboard!"

Gilligan silently thanked them for their help as all five, including the rich couple, grabbed a bucket and started throwing water overboard. The Skipper looked at all of them, his jaw open. "What are all of you doing?" he asked. "You're my passengers, not my crew!"

The smart man looked up at him. "Skipper, so long as we're on this boat and healthy, we _are_ your crew," he said.

Gilligan grinned. It was nice to have crewmates. He was usually the entire crew all by himself.

For two more hours, they all threw out water while the Skipper tried to fix the steering wheel, which had come off. Finally, as the storm began to die away some, he gave up. The Minnow was so far off course now that it was useless. But she was still floating, despite her apparent injuries. Only two of his "crew" were still bucketing and throwing out water. The other four were fast asleep. They included the rich couple, Ginger, and... Gilligan.

The Skipper sighed, realizing how worn out the little guy must have been. Normally he would have shaken Gilligan awake, called him a lazy bum, and put him back to work. But now things were different. The Skipper had accepted that whatever happened now was beyond his control. He could only hope and pray that the boat would lad somewhere safe or that another boat would somehow find them.

So he did the only thing he _could_ do. He picked up a bucket. "You two look like you could use another strong pair of hands to help out," he said. With that, he joined the two in draining the boat. "By tomorrow, we should be home in no time."

By the time the storm ended, they were all weary and wet as dogs. It was night, and too dark to see anything. "I think we can safely rest now," breathed the Skipper, sliding down the side of the boat. He shut his eyes, panting. As he dozed off, he swore he felt the boat slam up against something solid yet soft. But he was too tired to register it. He fell asleep hoping that the bump meant safety.

**.~GIAU~.**

**The next chapter starts the extended first episode. X3 According to my story plot so far, Episode 1 should last from Chapter 3 to Chapter 7 or 8. So it'll go for a while.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter. :D I'll see what I can do on "The Hyde Effect" now, though I'm anxious to post Chapter 3 when I get the beginning part done.**

**So, what's so AU about this story? Well, I made the characters more dynamic, meaning they change overtime due to their circumstances. There was no dynamic in the original Gilligan's Island... the characters were mostly static. Furthermore, you might find some changes made to our little island... to suit its dramatic theme the island has become a bit more dangerous. I've added different animals, and we will for sure encounter much more dangerous headhunters. We again raise the question of survival...**

**The seven have survived the storm, but will they be able to survive the island?**


	3. Beached and Stranded

**OK, before I give you the third chapter, I have to say this:**

**My views on a big issue in this fandom. Shipping. I know I'm not overly obvious as to what I ship in my writing, and I assure you it's intentional. I don't want my shipping preferences to keep anyone from my stories. Hex, I hang out in a chatroom with a multishipper who ships everything but the ships I ship and we get along fine. XD Besides, every other story in this fandom has a ship in it or is about a ship, and I've never been about doing what everyone else is doing.**

**I keep my stories basically neutral when it comes to shipping and don't go over ANYTHING relationshipwise that I don't see in the show when I write. Call me an oddball, I don't write ships! Well, obviously I wrote about the Minnow, but... yeah. XD Since I've never known romance or even imagined it, I absolutely cannot write it down on paper, no siree. My writing never goes beyond friendship for both the reason of basically missing out on potential friends and the fact that I can't write romance!**

**I've talked long enough. You're welcome to interpret whatever I write here in any way you choose, whether you're seeing MAG, MAP, Pinger, or anything else. That's the magic of writing without any pairing specifically emphasized: Anyone can read and interpret as they please. MAG shippers may see MAG. MAP shippers may see MAP. Pinger shippers may see Pinger. It really all depends on your viewpoint with my writing. Just try it as you proceed with this story, this is probably what will happen.**

**Anyway, that went on for a while. Enjoy the chapter now that I've shared my view on things. :3**

**Chapter 3: Beached and Stranded**

**.~GIAU~.**

_Friday, September 26, 1964_

The sun was up. A light breeze was blowing in from the sea. Birds sang, and waves gently lapped up against the shore. It was a beautiful day.

The Skipper awoke and sat up, taking in the sights around him. He saw land, and _trees._ Bushes. Ferns. A lot of sand. And the Minnow was still. She had come to rest on what seemed to be the beach of an island.

He rose to his feet, taking off the blanket which had mysteriously appeared on him. Everyone else was tucked into bedding as well. The Skipper hopped down onto the dry land and began examining his ship. She was covered in holes and completely shoved up onto the beach; the tide must have gone down during the night.

He shook Gilligan's arm. "Hey, Gilligan," he said. Gilligan was asleep on the edge of the boat. His head was tucked into his arms and his legs were knotted up like a pretzel. It was a wonder he hadn't fallen off. The Skipper wandered further down the beach, looking around. Since Gilligan still had not stirred, he shouted "Gilligan!" again.

This time Gilligan stirred. He blinked awake and slid down into the boat, checking where the Skipper had been sleeping. It took him a moment to realize that the Skipper wasn't there. He was outside the boat, and shouting his name even louder! Now Gilligan was wide awake, a series of terrible thoughts running through his head. "Oh my gosh... man overboard!" he jumped to his feet and threw himself overboard with the cry of "I'll save you Skipper!"

THUD.

The Skipper inwardly facepalmed, walking back over towards his "beached" first mate. Gilligan looked up, an embarrassed sort of look on his face. The Skipper grabbed Gilligan by the belt of his pants and dragged him up into a sitting position, sitting down next to his first mate. "Gilligan, the Minnow's been beached," he explained.

Gilligan looked around, finally noticing his surroundings. "Beached?" He looked back to the Skipper with an almost betrayed look in his eyes. "But when the storm was dying down you said we'd be home in no time!"

"It may take longer," said the Skipper.

Gilligan leaned in closer to the Skipper. "But when the passengers wake up and want to get off at the marina, what are you gonna tell them?"

"I'll think of something," grumbled the Skipper.

"How're we gonna get home? Look at all those holes!" squeaked Gilligan, pointing at the Minnow's battered frame. The Skipper made a reach for his cap, effectively scaring Gilligan into changing his mind about getting beached. "You know, Skipper, I'm very happy to be here," he rattled. "I'm so happy, I could... I could kiss the ground!" To prove his point, he did just that. He rose up from the ground looking as if he'd just bitten into a lemon. He sputtered and spat out a mouthful of grit and sand. "This island tastes terrible," he noted.

The Skipper only looked at Gilligan, wondering how the heck this kid got the brain he had, or if he even had a brain at all. Sometimes the captain had to wonder. "All right, Gilligan, let's wake everyone up. By the way, do you know where those blankets came from?"

"Oh, that was me, Skipper," said Gilligan, a smile tugging at his lips. "I made sure everyone was nice and cozy. It was all cold and wet."

"I thought you were sleeping," said the Skipper, eying Gilligan suspiciously.

"I was, but then I woke up and found everyone else was asleep and the storm was over. That's when I tucked everybody in."

"You didn't have to do _that_, Gilligan," said the Skipper, lumering back toward the boat.

"But it was nice," said Gilligan, rising and following him over.

The two woke up the other five and helped them get down onto the beach. "Oh, I've never been so happy to see dry land!" breathed the pigtailed brunette, smiling. "Even if we _are_ shipwrecked."

"Yes. The point is we're all alive," said the smart man, setting his hands on his hips and staring off into the jungle.

"Oh, this sand is not very good on high heels," complained Ginger, looking down at her feet.

The Skipper was still rummaging on the deck of the ship, searching for anything that might be helpful. He found his radio and turned it on. His face brightened at the sweet sound of instruments coming through. "The radio, it's... it's still getting a signal!" he exclaimed, climbing down and hurrying towards the others. "That means we're not far from the mainland!"

"Maybe there's news about us!" exclaimed Gilligan.

The group sat down in a somewhat shady spot underneath a palm tree, intently listening to the radio as music played. The radio was sitting on top of the Skipper's cooler. One news announcement _did_ come on about them, but it merely stated that nothing was known of their location and to stay tuned for further updates.

"We're here, we're here!" cried Gilligan, leaning in towards the radio. "We're on this tiny island and we're all alive!"

"They can't hear you, Gilligan," said the Skipper.

Gilligan frowned. "I know, but it sure felt good to say it."

"Well, while we're here we might as well make the best of it," said the smart man. "But let's begin by introducing ourselves. I believe we all know Ginger Grant, and it seems we all know Gilligan. I'm Professor Roy Hinkley."

"I'm Thurston Howell the Third, and this is my wife, Lovey Howell," said the rich man, indicating himself and his wife.

The Skipper's eyes grew wide. "_You're_ Thurston Howell the Third?" he asked. "As in the _billionaire,_ Thurston Howell the Third?"

"That's _millionaire,_ captain. And is there any other?" said Mr. Howell, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't guess so," said the Skipper. "I'm Jonas Grumby, but call me Skipper."

"I'm Mary Ann Summers," said the pretty brunette.

Gilligan ran through every name in his head. Ginger, Skipper, Howell, Howell, Mary Ann, and Professor Wrinkly. Or was that Hinkroy? Dinkly? Sprinkly? He decided that it would be easier to remember "Professor".

"Now, first things first," began the Professor. "We need to find a source of fresh water and a source of food."

"I have a fishing pole," said Gilligan, raising his hand.

"Good," said the Professor.

"No no, wait," Gilligan said, thinking. "I left my fishing pole at home." He grinned sheepishly.

"Well, no matter. Hopefully there's bountiful fruit in the jungle," said the Professor.

"Yeah, and hopefully there's a lot, too," said Gilligan.

"That's what 'bountiful' means, Gilligan," said the Skipper.

Gilligan smiled. "Oh!"

Mary Ann raised a shy hand. "I can cook," she said.

"Gilligan and I can do a lot of different work," said the Skipper. Gilligan nodded affirmation.

"I learned how to sew, if that's of any use," said Ginger.

The Professor turned to the Howells. "What about you, Mr. and Mrs. Howell?" he asked.

"Oh, Lovey and I are retired," said Mr. Howell. "Why, I haven't actually worked since... Lovey, when was the last time I worked?" he asked, turning to his wife.

"Yesterday, dear, but other than that, you've _never_ worked before," said Mrs. Howell.

"Oh, yes, right!" laughed Mr. Howell. "Dad left me everything. You can all do your work... Come on, Lovey."

"Now wait just a minute," said the Skipper, holding up one hand. "Everyone's got to do their part if this is going to work out."

"The Skipper's right. We all have to work together if we want to live," the Professor agreed.

"You're right," said Gilligan, nodding.

"Well, that's not fair," said Mr. Howell. "I did enough work on that _boat_ last night trying to keep the water out of it."

"Mr. Howell, I usually do most of the work," said Gilligan. "It felt really good when you pitched in and helped."

"Well, I just felt _wet_," said Mr. Howell.

"Do you mind walking through the jungle and giving it a look around?" asked the Professor. "It's not labor, only walking."

"Oh, that sounds _marvelous,_ doesn't it, Thurston?" asked Mrs. Howell.

"Actually, it _does_ sound quite nice," said Mr. Howell. "Did we remember to bring insect repellant?"

"Let's go get it," said Mrs. Howell. The couple left, heading back towards the Minnow.

The Skipper shook his head. "I get the feeling that those two are going to make things difficult for the rest of us," he said, folding his arms.

"Oh, you never know, Skipper. They may lighten up later," encouraged Mary Ann.

"Well... maybe you're right," said the Skipper. "Come on, Gilligan; let's explore this island."

"OK, Skipper," said Gilligan.

"But I just sent the Howells to do that," said the Professor.

"You think I trust them to actually _explore_ this place?" the Skipper half-laughed. "Fat chance."

"Yeah, Skipper. That chance is even bigger than you... are..." Gilligan shut up when the Skipper reached for his cap.

"All right, then Ginger, Mary Ann and I will see if we can salvage anything from the boat," said the Professor. He started for the Minnow and motioned at the girls. "Come on, girls."

The Skipper set his hands on his hips and turned towards the jungle. "Well, there's a lot to explore," he said. "Come on."

The duo set off into the jungle, making their way past palm fronds, bushes, ferns, and a bunch of gnats. They came across two trees which immediately struck the Skipper's attention. "Look at these, Gilligan," he said. "I'll bet this is the tallest tree on the island... you can probably see the entire island from up there!"

"Well, who's gonna go up there to see it?" questioned Gilligan, looking up. "You can't climb it cause you're the Skipper. And I can't climb it 'cause I don't know how to climb a coconut tree. Right?"

The Skipper's expression said "wrong."

"Besides... I'm afraid of heights," Gilligan insisted.

The Skipper's expression said "you're going up there."

Gilligan kept on. "I'm not trying to start a mutiny or anything, but I'm not climbing that tree." He shook his head. "Nope. I'm not climbing that tree."

The Skipper's expression never wavered, all the while dwindling Gilligan's confidence. "I'm not climbing this, tree, Skipper," he repeated, edging towards the tree. "I'm not... I'm not climbing... this tree." He wrapped his arms around the trunk and hoisted himself up, wrapping his legs around it.

The Skipper handed Gilligan the binoculars. "You're going to need these," he said, faintly smirking.

Gilligan took them, scowling lightly. He could never seem to hold his own when the Skipper was glaring at him like that. But now he was again filled with a sort of desire to show the Skipper what he could do. He wanted to impress his big buddy for once. Gilligan, thinking about this, started inching up the coconut tree, arms first and then legs. He almost lost his grip and fell many times, but he managed to pull himself up, up, up to the top of the tree.

But he was too scared to celebrate when he was nestled in its leaves thirty feet up in the air. He covered his eyes, afraid he would fall if he opened them.

"What do you see?" called the Skipper from down below.

"Nothing, I've got my eyes covered!" squeaked Gilligan from above.

"Then uncover them!" the Skipper ordered.

Gilligan uncovered his eyes and discovered... that he wasn't scared at all! He found himself amazed with the view before him. The tops of trees surrounded his viewing spot from all around, the blue-green canvas of the ocean spreading out beyond the island with no end in sight. He craned himself around, his mouth wide open. "You were right, Skipper! I can see the whole island from up here!" Not far from their current position was a small lagoon, and not too far from there was a sandy clearing. That clearing wasn't too far from a beach, where he saw a boat.

A boat?

Gilligan held the binoculars up to his eyes. "Skipper, I see a boat on the beach! And there's people!"

"People?" called the Skipper from below.

"Yeah, three of them!" answered Gilligan. "We're rescued, we're rescued!" He accidentally kicked a coconut with his foot in his excitement. He heard a noise come from the Skipper and flinched. He looked down. "Look out below!"

"Thanks for the warning!" shouted the Skipper, mildly sarcastic.

"I'm coming down!" shouted Gilligan. He latched onto the trunk of the tree again and tried to climb down slowly, but ended up going down rather quickly in his excitement, riding down the tree like a fire pole. He landed on the ground with a thud, also bumping onto the Skipper. A bombardement of coconuts rained down on both of them, but Gilligan didn't care. "We're rescued, Skipper!" he declared

"Are you..." a coconut landed on the Skipper's head, "..._sure_ you saw a boat?"

"Yeah, and three people!" said the hyperactive Gilligan. "Come on, I remember where it was, I'll show you!" He dashed off, leaving the Skipper behind. The big man chased after his first mate, keeping up as best he could, all the while with Gilligan shouting on about rescue.

They arrived on the beach. Gilligan stopped, pointing toward the boat and bouncing on his heels. "We're saved, yippee, yahoo, yippee, yahoo! Yipp...eeeee..." Gilligan's excited rambling came to a stop as he realized what the boat was.

There was the Minnow, the Professor, Ginger, and Mary Ann. Gilligan drooped, casting a sideways glance at the Skipper, whose mouth was a straight line. He knew he'd just made a big mistake. "I know, I'm a dumbbell," he said, shuffling off toward the crash site.

He walked past the Minnow, his hands shoved into his pockets. The Professor looked up at him. "Gilligan! You're back already? Where's the Skipper?"

"Behind me," said Gilligan.

"All right," said the Professor. "I have something I need to talk to him about." The man walked right past Gilligan, leaving the young man feeling even more sad. He wandered down the beach and sat down on the sand, forcing back the tears that threatened to come out of his eyes.

"What a day," he muttered to himself. "I get us shipwrecked, then I make a big goof and think I see a boat come to rescue us. How did I not notice it was the Minnow?"

**.~GIAU~.**

"Skipper," called the Professor, approaching the Skipper.

The Skipper came toward the Professor. "What is it, Professor?" he asked.

"Well, it's about your transmitter."

"Oh, that old thing? It hasn't worked in years," said the Skipper. "Can you fix it?"

"I thought I could," said the Professor, folding his arms. "But I took one look at the circuitry and knew that it was damaged beyond repair. Not to mention the water probably further damaged it."

The Skipper sighed. "Well then _that_ plan's out the window," he said. Then he shook his head. "That Gilligan... the only reason I'm standing here is because he thought you were here to rescue us. Apparently he didn't notice that the boat he saw was the Minnow."

"I see," said the Professor, furrowing his brow. "Come to think of it, he did look rather glum when he walked past me."

The Skipper searched the beach for his first mate to see him sitting near the ocean. His knees were tucked up to his chest and his arms were folded on top of them, his chin resting in his arms. His eyes, the color of the sea itself, were fixated on some unknown object in the distance. "He sometimes gets like that if he feels really bad about something," said the Skipper. "It's the only time he's ever quiet."

"Roughly how long do these spurts of introspection last?" the Professor inquired.

"Not long," said the Skipper. "He usually gets some crazy idea that gets him to cheer up. The longest he's ever gone is fifteen minutes. I like to think he's considering what he's done wrong and is trying to resolve to do better."

"That would make sense," said the Professor. "I get quite introspective myself some days. That is usually the sort of thought I have if I know I could have done something better."

Gilligan looked to his side and noticed something. He picked it up, looked at it, and grinned. "I think he just got a crazy idea," said the Skipper, watching as Gilligan yanked his little notebook and a pencil from his pocket. "I'd better go see what he's up to."

The Skipper strolled down the beach to find his little buddy busily writing something down on a piece of paper. "What are you doing, Gilligan?" asked the Skipper, bending down over his first mate's shoulder.

Gilligan flashed the paper to the Skipper. "I'm writing a note, Skipper," he said. "I'm gonna put it in a bottle and toss it out into the ocean."

The Skipper sighed. "Gilligan, the chances of that note reaching Hawaii are one in a thousand."

"Better than no chance at all," said Gilligan. He fixed his gaze on the Skipper, suddenly serious. "We have to try _something,_ Skipper."

"And I'll _think_ of something," said the Skipper. "I can get you a bottle to put the note in in the meantime."

"Thanks, Skipper," said Gilligan, smiling. "I sure am lucky to have a buddy like you."

**.~GIAU~.**

Two hours passed. Gilligan had put his note in an empty beer bottle and thrown it out to sea, and the rest of the castaways had salvaged what they could from the Minnow, including all the blankets and pillows, a flashlight, a gun, a flare gun, tools, and a box of flares. They had to throw away all the food and drink that was onboard, since it had all spoiled.

The Professor had left to explore the jungle himself, telling the others that he would be looking for food and fresh water. Gilligan had loaned him his duffle bag to hold the food in, in which he had been keeping dry undershirts, underpants, and trousers, as well as his diary. He kept the clean clothes in the bag because being on the sea, of course, meant two things.

One, he was surrounded by water, and occasionally he would get splashed or fall overboard. Two, he had nowhere to go to the bathroom should he feel the urge to, and sometimes holding it in could get a bit difficult, especially since he was surrounded by water.

The Skipper had his own duffle bag with his own set of dry clothes in it, with a bit of a different reason. He said he kept extra clothes because of Gilligan's obnoxious tendency to ruin the ones he had on.

Now Gilligan was pacing back and forth on the beach, the Skipper watching him. "Gilligan, why don't you sit down?" the captain suggested.

Gilligan did just that and sat down on the log right next to the Skipper, sighing. "Skipper, I don't know about you, but I'm panicking," he said. He had taken on the appearance of a frightened rodent. "How're we gonna survive on this little island with no TV, no checkers, no hot dogs, no candy..."

"Hopefully we'll be rescued before we've had a chance to miss all those things, little buddy," said the Skipper.

"I'm already missing them," said Gilligan. "I hope we get rescued soon. The first thing I'll do is get a hamburger and a milkshake. Boy, I sure am hungry. We haven't eaten since lunch yesterday."

"The Professor should be getting back soon with fruit," said the Skipper. "We could also catch some fish to cook. You like fish, don't you?"

"Not as much as hot dogs," said Gilligan. "And I left my fishing pole at home, remember?"

Then the Skipper got an idea. He stood up. "Stay here, Gilligan; I'll be right back," he said, sauntering off. He came back with a long, thin, sturdy branch. "Gilligan, you've got your pocketknife. See if you can carve this into a harpoon."

Gilligan took the branch. "All right, Skipper," he said, taking out his pocketknife. As he was carving, the Professor returned with the duffle bag now full of fruit. Gilligan dropped what he was doing and ran over to the Professor. "Oh boy oh boy oh boy! What didja find? Ooo, looks like a lot. Skipper and I are gonna catch some fish! Well, after I finish making the harpoon. We're gonna have a real nice dinner tonight, aren't we, Professor?"

"Yes, Gilligan, we will," said the Professor, setting down the bag of loot and emptying its contents. He pulled out each fruit and named it as he held it. "Here we have mangoes, centeloupes, melons, bananas, papayas, pineapples, and even breadfruit."

Gilligan's eyes grew wide. "There's a thing called a breadfruit?" he asked, taking the round green fruit from the Professor and looking at it up close. "I didn't think bread grew on trees. I thought they made it with wheat and flour and yeast."

"It's not bread like you're thinking," said the Professor. "You see, this is what the natives to this region use for bread. They bake the fruit in an oven, scrape the crust off, and are able to slice it and eat it like bread."

Gilligan grinned. "Maybe we can have fish sandwiches, too," he said.

"Gilligan! Come finish this harpoon!" the Skipper ordered.

Gilligan begrudgingly gave the breadfruit back to the Professor and grabbed a banana before running back to finish what he'd started. Then the Skipper approached the Professor. "I hope he wasn't bothering you too much, Professor," he said in an apologetic tone. "Gilligan's a sweet kid, but he _can_ be quite annoying at times."

"Oh no, not at all," said the Professor. "He displayed a unique curiosity. He seemed especially interested in the breadfruit, so I told him about it. I teach in a high school, and I've only had a handful of students who seemed as interested in _anything_ as he did."

"When it comes to food, Gilligan is _always_ interested," said the Skipper. He looked back at Gilligan, who was busily scraping away at the branch to make a harpoon.

"Well, we're in no danger of starving on this island," said the Professor. "There are multiple varieties of fruits out there, and I haven't seen any evidence of inhabitants on this island, at least not from recent times. We may be totally alone out here."

"Professor... do you think there are any game animals out there?" asked the Skipper.

"There could be, though I didn't see any. Why do you ask?"

The Skipper looked up to the sky. "I had a sudden craving for steak."

**.~GIAU~.**

Five hours later, Gilligan and finished his harpoon and, between himself and the Skipper, had caught 25 fish- more than enough to feed seven hungry people. The sun was beginning to set, providing relief from the blazing hot sun that had been upon them all day.

Gilligan collected firewood and the Professor made a fire. Soon, all seven castaways were gathered around the fire, cooking fish, eating fruit, and discussing rescue. Gilligan grabbed a bunch of bananas and set it down next to himself, then plucked one and held it over the fire.

"I'm not sure how much more of this island I can take," said Mr. Howell, searching the sky.

"Don't worry, Mr. Howell. They're bound to send out search planes," said the professor. "They already know we're missing, so it's only a matter of time."

"Oh, I _do_ hope we're rescued soon," said Ginger. "Otherwise my career is _ruined._"

"I knew we should have taken our private yacht," said Mr. Howell.

"Which one?" asked Mrs. Howell.

"Any one of them," answered the millionaire, folding his arms like a dissatisfied child. "Curse that butler, insisting we do something, quote unquote, 'normal'."

"You know you didn't have to listen to him, Thurston," said Mrs. Howell.

"Yes I did," said Mr. Howell sourly. "I lost a bet with the chap... Oo! As soon as I get back there, he is getting _fired!_"

"I lose bets all the time," said Gilligan around a mouthful of fried banana. "I always bet I won't do something stupid in one day and then the Skipper bets I will. He always wins."

"I never _fail_ to," said the Skipper. Then he groaned and planted his face in his palm.

"What? What, Skipper, what?" asked Gilligan.

The Skipper looked back at his first mate. "I just realized that I'm going to be seeing you all day instead of just nine hours a day," he said.

Gilligan shrugged. "So?"

"_So_, I've just lost my fifteen hours of _peace_ and _quiet!_" the Skipper snapped.

"What about sleeping?" asked Gilligan. "I don't snore."

The Skipper was dubious about this. "How do you _know_ you don't snore?" he questioned.

Gilligan shrugged again. "I've never _heard_ myself snore."

"That doesn't mean you _don't._"

"Oh." Gilligan went back to eating his bananas.

"I hope my family is doing all right," said Mary Ann. "Hawaii was my first trip out on my own as a grown-up. They must be feeling terrible right now..."

Gilligan turned his head to look at her. "You have a nice family?" he asked.

Mary Ann smiled and nodded. "I ah... don't have a mom, but I did grow up on the farm with my dad, and we visited my aunt and uncle's farm a lot. They're very nice people."

Gilligan grinned. "So are my parents," he said. "In fact, they're probably worried about me, too. Though my brother probably isn't."

Mary Ann squinted at him. "Why not?" she asked.

Gilligan smiled shyly. "I'm wearing his favorite shirt," he admitted. "He'll be mad that I got it so ruined. He lets me wear it so long as I don't ruin it." He snorted and tugged at the salty, sand-covered red material. "_Now_ look at it."

"I doubt he cares about his shirt more than he cares about you," said Mary Ann.

Gilligan snorted again. "You don't know my _brother_," he said.

"I suppose I don't," said Mary Ann. "I never had any siblings growing up."

"Neither did I," said Ginger. "My roommate in college was the closest thing I had to a sister. We did everything together. We were even in acting together."

Gilligan shoved the last banana into his mouth. "I wish I could've gone to college," he mumbled. "But since I barely passed high school I just went out to find a job. No college wanted me anyway." He tossed away his latest banana peel. Since two fish and an entire bunch of bananas still had not satisfied his almost endless appetite, he reached for a mango and got to work on it.

"Colleges always want people, Gilligan," said the professor.

Gilligan shook his head. "Not me. I had to work hard to keep my Cs where I had them," he said. Then he smiled jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood. "Then they brought me to the sea!"

"And then the sea brought us all here," said the Skipper, resting his cheek in his palm.

Gilligan sighed. "Yeah," he said in a low voice. _But if it weren't for me we'd all be safe at home. Stupid Gilligan, why do you have to be so clumsy and forgetful?_

**.~GIAU~.**

**And that's all. ^^ This chapter ended up being much longer than I'd thought it would be, but long chapters are nice. Also, can you see the AU already working into the story? Two that I can go ahead and point out are the transmitter being beyond repair and them not having a fishing pole.**

**Please no arguing about shipping in the comments! I saw this once and it irritated me to death. If you must argue about shipping, do it anywhere but here, or don't do it at all. Thanks. ^^**

**Anywho, I have chosen exactly half of the season 1 episodes to work on with this series. They are:**

**'Two on a Raft', 'Home Sweet Hut', 'President Gilligan', 'The Sound of Quacking', 'Goodbye Island', 'The Big Gold Strike', My own Christmas plot (technically counts as the Christmas episode), 'Water Water Everywhere', 'So Sorry, My Island Now', 'St. Gilligan and the Dragon', 'Big Man on a Little Stick', 'How to Be a Hero', 'Music Hath Charms', 'Three to Get Ready', 'Forget Me Not', 'Diogenes, Won't You Please Go Home?', 'Physical Fatness', and 'It's Magic'.**

**As for chapter numbers, I've only planned ahead for eight of these 18 stories, and I already have 42 chapters. XD I may divide the seasons into volumes and have three LoGI sets.**

**I'm sorry if I left anyone's favorite episodes out, I just picked the ones I thought I could do something with or build on or flow with another episode. But there's your list to expect stories on. X3 I will also add "tween chapters" or "tween plots" that are not in any episode. Tween chapters bridge time gaps in between episodes and tween plots are stories I invent to bridge episodes.**

**Man, I'm bad for long author's notes! Please review, but again, no shipping wars! :)**


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